Emma
by RosieTara
Summary: Post Reichenbach Fall. John meets a girl called Emma and the events that unravel are... eventful? sorry... I'm really bad at summaries...so ur... just maybe read the first chapter? oh, P.S I do not own John Watson or any of Sir Authur Conan Doyles and BBC's characters BUT I do own Emma :D
1. Chapter 1

Jogging past a saddened man sitting on the passing bench it took Emma a few seconds to recognise the face. Retracing her steps back she had a last contemplation on what she was about to do before stepping over to the man.  
"excuse me? Sorry but um, you're John Watson yes?"  
The man hesitated slightly before answering "ur, yes why?" he seemed confused, Emma didn't blame him.  
"this is going to sound really weird Doctor Watson but would you care to join me for a walk?"  
suddenly Johns face hardened. "are you from the paper? Because I've had enough of you lot trying to make me sell my story, you should know by now that I won't give it!" he questioned anger now lining his voice.  
"what? No" Emma assured him "I promise I'm not looking to write a story"  
"then why do you want me to walk with you?"  
"because I know exactly how you feel"

John was hesitant to talk to the young woman, he had heard enough stories from people about how they had lost their cousin ten years ago and how you have to strive on because blah blah blah, to him it was bullshit. Life without Sherlock was hard and John could barely call it a life, but something about how the girl spoke made him accept.

"why did you get involved in the army?" Emma asked once John had gotten up from the bench and begun to walk alongside her.  
"pardon?" John replied, clearly disorientated by the query.  
"well, you could have been just a normal doctor but you decided to go to the army, why?"  
"W-Well, my family have always been involved in the army, it was sort of a given that I would be going down that path too but I wanted to be a doctor, it was easy enough to do both."  
Emma had a look of interest on her face and nodded at his answer. John stopped in place.  
"why did you ask me that? You said you know how I am feeling. I thought you were going to start telling me how to cope and then you go and ask me about my career, why?"  
Emma smiled at john before continuing down the path, he followed. "I thought it was a better conversation starter than 'how are you coping after the death of your best and closest friend?' but now that it's been brought up I guess-... How are you?"  
John almost laughed before sobering "I'm alive aren't I? but everything reminds me of him and every night I see it and it kills me. Repeatedly seeing him jump, seeing his face all bloody and- and- and White" blinking tears back John looks up trying not to cry in such a public place in front of a girl he barely knew.  
Emma looking knowingly at John before producing a tissue from her jacket pocket. Taking it, John muttered thanks.  
Emma took a breath. "I promise you John that I was telling the truth before, I know exactly how you feel and I know you won't believe me just because I've said it. I also know that you will have had many people tell you about the time their aunt died of a stroke when they were ten, or how twenty years ago a classmate of theirs got cancer and died a week later. Because it's not like that….That's not the way he died."  
"so how do I feel then?"  
"well sad obviously. But under that there are so many other emotions that sometimes you forget even to cry. Because you're confused. You don't know why they did it, what brought them to do it, whether you could have done anything to stop him. There is anger, because they were selfish, thought the only person it would affect would be themselves. They didn't stop to contemplate how the living would cope with them not being there" John couldn't help but notice that Emma's eyes were watery and her words became more forced with effort.  
He looked back at the girl with a sense of pity; she looked to be only nineteen or twenty and here she was being able to perfectly explain how he was feeling about Sherlock's suicide. How did she know? Did she know Sherlock or was this from a past experience? Although feeling a little awkward John found that he had to ask.  
"Do-Did you know Sherlock? Or..."  
Emma half heartfelt smiled and slowed her pace.  
"Yes. I knew him, he was a great man John and I miss him dearly, but he is not who I mourn most. And yet my grief has only lived minutes longer than yours."  
John seemed a little surprised "wow... So you're really going through the same thing as me, same stage, same... Type of death?"  
"hmm? Oh, yeah. Suicide..."Emma trailed off thinking of how much she should tell the man. 'why not?' she said to herself, they were both hopeless wreaks anyway.  
"John I haven't really introduced myself"- She extended her hand towards him " My name is Emma, Emma Moriarty"

Johns eyes widened realising what she meant about there being only mere minutes difference in how long they have both have had to deal with the grief.  
"so Jim was your..."  
"brother" Emma finished.  
"Oh, I can see the resemblance and the way you speak I thought you reminded me of someone."  
"Yeah, it's the voice that normally gives it away."  
"In my family it was always our posture" they both began to lightly laugh before they heard john's name being called:  
"John! John! Over here!"  
They turned to see Detective Inspector LeStrade walking over to them  
"Greg! Um, Hi, nice see you. How are you doing?"  
The smile left gregs face "not too bad I guess. Defiantly not as easy to solve cases nowadays."  
John nodded in somber agreement.  
"I was just going to go get a coffee, care to join me?" LeStrade then noticed Emma "unless, you're already doing something..." he said a little questioningly.  
John looked at Emma who just nodded in reply, not knowing exactly what that meant John replied unsure…  
"what? No we're not doing anything, sounds great"  
LeStrade again looks at Emma before it clicks with John but Emma is already beginning to Introduce herself  
"Hi" she says shaking the inspector detective's hand "I'm Emma Mo-  
"My niece!" John cuts in "she's studying at university here in London so she's staying with me till he can find her own place. Nice to have her round good for coping..."  
"oh, nice to meet you Emma."  
"yep, do you want to tell Greg what your studying?" john pushes as they continue their walk to the nearby cafe.  
"Forensics actually," Emma replies confidently. "I'm into my third year"  
By the time they get to the cafe, Greg and Emma have struck up a conversation about fingerprint capturing techniques and how the technology is changing.  
"see, back when I was studying we had little to no chance of being able to-" LeStrades phone begins to ring before he apologises and answers it.  
As he walks away from the table john questions Emma. "were you actually going to tell him that your last name is Moriarty? And why did you have to say forensics?"  
"well for one thing, I was going to say Moriard and two, I said I was studying forensics because it's the truth."  
"so, wait, you are studying forensics at University?"  
"yes, I'm Jim Moriarty's sister, what did you think I would study, teaching?"  
"well, no I just"  
At this moment LeStrade walks back to the table somewhat embarrassed "hey, look I'm sorry and understand if you can't but I've got to go to a crime scene now where there are some injured people and we can't get a ambulance to them, would you mind coming and taking a look at them?"  
"um, I - what about Emma?" John asks obviously hesitant about taking her to a crime scene.  
"are you kidding me? She's studying forensics! Think it about time she got some work experience!" LeStrade replied winking at Emma.  
"sounds good to me, right John?" Emma asked seeming happy to work on a case. John nodded in agreement before they left the cafe to hail a taxi.

As they arrived at the crime scene John immediately felt a pang of sadness but decided that he had to do this for himself, how was he to ever overcome his grief if he was continuously running from everything that reminded him?  
As he walked over to the injured he was surprised to see that Greg pulled Emma along with him but let it pass. She was in good hands.  
As he checked on the injured he thought about how his life had a habit of making thinks happen in very short amounts of time and how after knowing her for less than a day John was worried/ happy for Emma to be on this crime scene.  
No one had briefed him on what had happened, all he had to go on was where they were and what injuries the people had: cuts, bruises and two gun shots. someone probably stole something by the look of the manor they were stationed in front of.  
As he looked at the manor he noticed two people enter and then he realised that it was Emma and another officer. Concern and worry flooded him. Most likely her first ever work experience and they're sending her in to search the home. Turning back to his patients John realised that he missed the work nearly as much as he missed Sherlock.  
Suddenly he heard a scream and the sound of a gun being fired.  
Immediately he began to run to the door but was stopped by LeStrade "you have to wait a minute, I know it seems right to run in and check on them but it can do more bad than good okay?" John nodded, annoyed that he didn't remember that basic part of military training. Once they had decided it was safe to enter, the sight they found was not good. Emma lay on the ground blood soaking through her shirt but John could tell straight away it wasn't a gunshot wound that injury was from a knife. The victim of the gunshot was found on the other side of the room, later to be found as the thief and attempted killer he was not the man who had cut Emma but no one knew that yet.  
As John approached the injured girl he could tell things were not great. Already unconscious and losing alot of blood he would have to work fast. His adrenaline began to pump and he was thrown back into the days of working as an army doctor in Afghanistan.

As the ambulance finally arrived and the fight was over to let John travel with her back, He was feeling the best he had felt in months but because he felt so good he was also guilty because Emma Moriarty was lying unconscious in front of him with a big cut in her torso all because she had decided to comfort him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Blinking her eyes open, Emma became aware of the sound of beeping instruments and the groaning and coughing of other patients. After stretching her arms and fingers john appeared by her bed side.  
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice kind and sympathetic.  
Emma laughed to herself before answering " a cut across the stomach?... I've had worse, much worse" she replied staring at the wall remembering.  
"yeah, the nurses said you had a few scars... Just how involved were you in your brother's life?"  
"Probably too much" Emma said laughing slightly before realising it hurt too much.  
"The doctors will only let you out tomorrow if you are my care, because I can continue to give you treatment and check on you. But if you're not comfortable with that then they can keep you in till you're fully recovered."  
"ugh no thanks, if it's alright could I stay with you? These hospitals are just a bit too miserable."  
John laughed in agreement, "sure, look I've got to go to work but I'll be back tomorrow morning to pick you up, okay?"  
"Right. Thank you John, for everything, it's all very kind of you"  
Giving a smile in reply John nodded goodbye to the nurse and left.  
Drifting in and out of consciousness from the pain killers, tomorrow morning came quicker than Emma could imagine.  
When John came to pick her up, Emma was surprised to find that he had bought her a new shirt to wear as her old one was a bit, torn and blood soaked and he had gone to the trouble of making sure the hospital put her name down as Moriard.  
"ready to go?" he asked her as she finished brushing her hair with a brush the nurse had brought her  
"well I'm not staying here" she replied back.  
As they walked outside to call a taxi John had a sudden realisation that Emma would need a few things "I guess we need to make a stop by your apartment then?" he asked her as a taxi pulled over to take them  
"oh, yes right that might be useful if I have clothes and things, sure." she then leaned over to the taxi window and stated her address. Upon the taxi drivers reply they got into the cab and took the short ride to the apartment in silence.  
On the way up the stairs, Emma explained that she had shared the apartment with her brother so John didn't really know what to expect upon entering the flat but what he saw didn't completely surprise him: a full wall was lined with books varying from Lewis Carroll's whole line of work to complete sets of world books and encyclopaedias. A huge cork board took up another wall but unlike the one that used to hang in John and Sherlock's apartment, this one was scattered with pictures showing the siblings on holidays and with their family as well as postcards, birthday cards and quotes pinned up alongside them but littering the board if you looked close enough was information on places like Buckingham palace and the bank of England as well as the contacts of several "well known" and accomplished criminals.  
The flat was well organised and tidy, a feat Sherlock and John never had been able to manage.  
While John continued to look curiously around what used to be the home of Moriarty, Emma packed her small suitcase full of necessities with a few insurances packed in as well; a gun, knife and her work phone, really, she was relieved and surprised that no one had stolen it while she was in hospital.

"ready?" John asked knocking on the door while Emma packed one of the only photos she had of her full family. " I must say, your flat is different to what I imagined"  
"what did you expect? Guns on the walls, prison cell in the back room?"  
"no, it's just all those photos of you and you brother, that's nice"  
A cab pulled up and John stated the address before falling back into conversation with Emma.  
"I didn't realised that you and your brother would be close like that, it seemed quite normal, given who he was"  
Emma smiled "yeah well, your brother is your brother. We got to go to some pretty cool places being in the business that we were, we'd always stay a bit longer and make a holiday out of it." Emma laughed remembering the memories she kept so fondly.

After paying the cab driver they walked up the stairs to the apartment, John found it unbearable to continue living at 221b Baker Street so as soon as he found a suitable flat he moved. His new home was drab and boring, no gunshots in the walls and no heads in the fridge. Luckily it had a small study off the living room so Emma would have somewhere to sleep. As he showed her where to put her stuff they talked of general things like work and furniture but found they were both too emotionally and physically tired to hold a real conversation. After giving her a full tour of the small flat and checking on her wound they both resided to their rooms for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Quite a short chapter this one but hope you like it :D

* * *

"Look, I'm not sure about this John..."

"I know it sounds stupid but it does help even if you just do it once. Please try it, okay?"

Emma sighed knowing she had lost "alright but if I get called mad and locked in a loony bin, it's your fault."

John smiled putting a hand over his heart, "I promise to take full responsibility".

It had been two weeks since Emma had been discharged from hospital, the doctors had found the cut had not pierced anything of utter importance and the doctors were repeatedly saying how lucky she was. Emma and John had found that being in each other's company had boosted their happiness levels and they found it easier to bring up their lost loved ones in conversation. For three days John had been trying to convince Emma to go to the cemetery and talk to Jim and just like he had, she thought the idea was stupid. But John was persistent and positive it would help her which leads us to John and Emma walking into the cemetery where the two consultants had been buried.

"We'll meet at the gates at 12 okay?"

"Sure" Emma replied, she still didn't think that pretending to talk to her brother as though he was standing in front of her would help, but for John's sake she decided to give it a go.

Placing the flowers on the stone Emma awkwardly started to talk;

"hi. So, ur, John said to talk to you so here I am. I'm going to make you feel guilty, if you are listening, because you don't realise what you've done. Did you think about how I would feel before you did it? Did you contemplate how I would feel knowing my brother killed himself?

It was a great game Jim, really but did you really have to win? Did anyone? Because you died and so did Sherlock. You killed yourself to make sure he would kill himself... Well how's victory feeling? Because for me it feels like nothing, I feel numb okay? I got cut the other day and it was the most I have felt since you died. I only had YOU Jim, and then you went and left me.-"

A noise made Emma stop. Wiping away the tears from her face she began to walk round to the forest which surrounded the graveyard.

"who's there? I know it's someone, animals don't sniff." as she round the corner she had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming out. Because _he_ was standing in front of her. Not a hallucination, not a hologram and not a ghost. The real deal.

His eyes red from crying he faced Emma with shame.

She slowly removed her hand from over her mouth still staring at him in disbelief.

All she could think was how, she has seen him dead, lying there lifeless, blood pooling round him and yet there he was, standing, breathing and very much alive...

Sherlock Holmes.


	4. Chapter 4

Dun Dun DUN!

* * *

The dead man grabbed her hand and pulled her into the concave of a small grave house.  
"Don't say a word okay? You have to let me talk, but not here and not right now. Go back to J-John"-Emma heard him choke on the word- "and then meet me at this address at two o'clock and I will explain everything."  
Without waiting for Emma to reply he handed her a piece of paper and walked off back into the sea of trees. Emma looked at the piece of paper in her hand. Smiling, she made her way back to John; lucky, lucky John.

By the time Emma made her way back to the gates John was waiting for her  
"are you alright?" he asked softly.  
Emma looked up at him with a smile on her face "yeah, thanks for making me do it, it helped a lot" she replied twirling the piece of paper round in her pocket.

After making a stop at the grocers to stock up on necessities John and Emma made their way back to the apartment Emma had begun to think of as home.

As the clock ticked over to 1:40 Emma got up from her seat and grabbed her coat  
"John?" she called out  
"yes? Are you alright? Do you need a pain killer or something?" he replied straight away with concern.  
" no, no. I'm fine I'm just stepping out for a bit okay? Meeting up with some friends"  
"alright, could you maybe pick up some milk on the way home? Forgot it earlier"  
"sure" Emma said as she walked out the door, not knowing exactly what she was going to.

As the doors of the warehouse banged loudly behind her Emma couldn't help but smirk at how Sherlock had chosen such a mycroftish meeting place.  
"alright, I'm here dead, so are you going to start explaining?"  
Sherlock appeared atop of old wooden creates before stepping off them and walking over to Emma.  
"oh come on, haven't you worked it out? I was quite sure you would have already told John that you knew I was alive. I thought that was why you started talking to him."  
"I had my theories Mr Holmes, but I wouldn't dare get someone's hopes up if all they would do is plummet straight back down because he could never see you again, I don't call that fair. Do you?"  
As if ignoring the bulk of what Emma had just said, Sherlock stepped closer to her and looked her right in the eye "how did I do it? Emma Moriarty answer me that."  
Taking a deep breath she began; speaking quickly. "You stunted your pulse by using the old ball under arm trick, you cushioned your fall and it doesn't matter that I don't know how you did that bit because I know everything else. Molly helped you get some blood capsules so it looked like you'd cracked your skull. The hardest thing you had to do was lie still while John checked your pulse and cried over you."  
At the last few words Sherlock's face became tainted with regret and guilt, and so it should, Emma thought to herself.  
"You know I didn't kill your brother right?"  
Emma looked confused at Sherlock "of course, it was always going to be then end for him, no other way I could think of him going actually. He just had to finish the game."  
Sherlock smiled sympathetically at Emma before taking in a deep breath "I know your waiting to, so go on then"  
"excuse me?"  
"say it, yell at me, tell how selfish I am." Sherlock rolled his eyes as he said the words. But Emma stood up straighter before beginning her rant that she'd planed in the hours after their first meeting.  
"do you realise how much pain you have left John in? He watched you jump, saw you crash into the pavement, felt your pulseless wrist! He didn't- and still doesn't- know that you killed yourself so that he could live, so that LeStrade and Mrs Hudson could live! all he knows is that you jumped off the building after my brother killed himself! John thinks you killed yourself because Jim was dead or because you couldn't handle everyone thinking you were a fraud! No one knows the real reason you did it, no one except you and me."  
Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but Emma wouldn't give him the opportunity to apologise.  
"And you might think he's getting better since I've been talking to him but every night he still sees you jump, and it rips the heart out of him. So what do I do now? Huh? What do I tell John? What do you tell John? Because I'm pretty sure that when he sees you, you're going to get punched."  
"Let him." Sherlock whispered, tears in his eyes "I deserve it"  
Dragging his hands through his hair he began to answer Emma's questions "tell him I'm alive please. Explain that I've got to wait until the snipers will feel no need to shoot John because I'm still alive and I've got to work out what I'm going to do about the fact that the public thinks that I'm dead and a fraud."  
"Why can't you tell him?"  
"You said it yourself, I'd get punched! He'd be angry he wouldn't listen to my reasons. I promise to talk to you soon okay?"  
Emma nodded in acceptance it's not what she wants but she knows why he can't be the on to say it, knows why it should be her.  
"until next time then" Emma says turning and walking out the door leaving Sherlock to stand alone once again a shadow in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Again, a short chapter. I apologise in advance for any emotions unlocked in this chapter...

* * *

As Emma walked into the apartment shaking off her umbrella and hanging her coat up on the rack a line of worry creased john's face, she looked sad and uneasy a side to Emma he had not seen in a while.  
"are you okay Emma? You seem a bit... I don't know, anxious."  
Emma looked at John. Pleased to see he was sitting down she joined him on the armchair opposite closing her eyes her eyes before beginning.  
"John, there are some things I need to tell you. And I don't really know where to start, but... Look I know you think a lot about why Sherlock did it, and I know you don't have an answer but I do. I know exactly why he ended his life that day." John leaned in from his chair, his expression a mixture of anticipation, anger and sadness he gestured with his hands allowing her to go on. "You were in danger; everyone close to Sherlock was the target of a sniper that would shoot unless Sherlock committed suicide, unless the game was completed. But you see he's smart he worked out that there was a signal that would call off the snipers apart from him falling to the pavement. Sherlock thought he could get it out of Jim. That's why my brother killed himself: so that there would be no chance of calling off the guns. Sherlock had no choice, although he always said that he didn't care about people, there were some that he cared for an awful lot and in the end he gave his life for you."  
John leaned back in his chair trying to take in and understand all the new information.  
"Why should I believe that what you're saying is true?" John said after a while.  
Emma looked puzzled for a moment before answering "what reason is there to lie about such a thing? It's not exactly going to decide the fate of a nation... I just thought you would want to finally know the real reason he did it."  
John looked up at Emma before averting his eyes to the window.  
"You're right. Thank you for telling me Emma. I never thought of that being the reason. I thought that he couldn't handle being called a fraud, or that he loved your brother and couldn't handle the fact that he was dead... I just didn't know."  
Emma smiled slyly "can you imagine them being together?"  
John smirked at the thought, "they'd be quite the odd couple, imagine them..." both imagining the awkward relationship they began to laugh, 'maybe they're laughing wherever they are too' thought John 'or maybe they're holding hands and smirking that we think it's a bit of a joke.'  
And then John had a comment he could help but have, immediately sobering him 'or maybe they're not doing anything at all.'


	6. Chapter 6

Many days past without any word from Sherlock and Emma began to worry that he had decided to run off. She still couldn't think of a way to tell John so Emma decided that when Sherlock became in touch with her she'd persuade him to tell John himself.

John was working at the Royal London Hospital and as university started back up Emma was engrossed in her studies of forensic science and had also started proper work experience with LeStrade every Wednesday and Thursday.

Yet more days past and Emma began to give up all together on the man. Until.

John was working a night shift so home alone Emma was catching up on her assignments and the work LeStrade had given her whilst watching the latest episode of 'Doctor Who' , when there was a knock at the door. Putting a full stop on the end of her sentence and turning down the television Emma walked towards the door ' if it's more scouts, I've already given you ten pounds to leave me alo-'

'sorry about the delay' the man says already walking into the flat.

'oh no problem Dead, you'd been gone for months what are a few more?' Emma replied coldly.

Sitting down Sherlock flicked through Emma's forensics course book. 'So you're actually studying this, forensics. Why?'

"You know why. You're Sherlock Holmes, master of deduction, why do you never just tell me about myself like you do everyone else?"

Sherlock frowned slightly "you are Emma Moriarty. You can read me like a book. Apart from my brother, the only one who can. You don't speak of me so I don't speak of you."

"Just, tell me why I study it, tell me about myself. So I know that you're not lying when you say you can read me."

Looking at the girl for a few seconds the man took a breath: "you study it because you knew something would happen but you told your brother it was so you knew what you were up against. You never became a consulting criminal because you wanted to break laws. You did it because you loved your brother and you were bored; organising crimes was the only way you could show off your talents."

Emma nodded smiling at him "what else?"

"You're left handed but use your right for most things, you've been shot five times in your life but that scar on your leg is not from fighting, it's from falling off a tree and scraping it on the way down. You play piano by the way you hold your hands, you have a date tomorrow but are having doubts about them maybe it's because he's illiterate but more likely because you've met someone you like more… you work at a book shop, you haven't told your mother that her son is dead yet and you're high functioning but since you met John you haven't been yourself, You've talked normally and haven't said out loud what you have picked up on. LeStrade doesn't even know your talent. Why have you kept it hidden?"

Emma smiled "now that, I know you don't understand. But take a stab at why, go on"

Sherlock stared at the wall contemplating why Emma would hide her true personality. It wouldn't expose that she was a criminal, nor would LeStrade fire her for it. He'd be happy to have someone that could solve crimes properly- "oh..."

"Worked it out have you?" Emma asked, rolling her eyes slightly.

"They miss me" he began, when Emma nodded that so far he was correct he continued "and if you started talking like me, John would get sadder. But why would that matter? Why do you care? Would it matter if he was sad?"

Emma sighed "yes, of course it would. I wanted to help John, not propel him deeper into his sadness."

Sherlock nodded, now understanding.

"What about you now Mr Holmes? Run away again? Tell John you're alive? Tell everyone you're alive?"

Ignoring her question, Sherlock looked out the window before walking to the kitchen, flicking the kettle switch and getting out three mugs.

Looking at her watch Emma frowned confused, before hearing the latch begin to turn

"hey Emma, Greg wants you to see him tomorrow about that piano case, says you might be able to decipher the sheet music ...or something" John muttered the last words as he heard someone making tea but could see Emma standing right in front of her. "Sorry, have I interrupted something?" John asked now wary that he was not expected home for another hour.

"Two sugars yes?" John heard the all too familiar voice call from the kitchen.

"Emma. Who is that in the kitchen?"

"I think you might need to go see for yourself John." Emma quietly replied. She didn't quite know how John would take it: anger, crying, smiling, hugging? Who knew? But as John walked to approach the kitchen he stopped and looked at her "you didn't hear it did you? It was just me. I imagined him again." John laughed to himself "I saw him behind his grave the other day... God I miss him."

Emma sighed sympathetically. Sherlock had tried to be smart, decided to jut make John tea but Johns so far into grief that he didn't think Sherlock was actually there.

"why don't I make you a cup of tea hey?" as Emma walked into the kitchen her eyes widened in shock as she saw Sherlock sitting on the ground head in his hands softly crying. As Emma shut the door behind her, he looked up his eyes red from his tears.

"I'd anticipated every single reaction he could have to seeing me. Knew what I was going to say. But that..." Sherlock pointed to the door sniffing "he stared right at me, then just turned away." standing up Sherlock looked desperately at Emma. "How am I meant to tell him? How am I meant to tell him when he thinks I don't exist anymore?"

After thinking for a moment Emma walked over to the kettle and poured the three cups of tea that Sherlock had set up.

"Emma I can't just walk in there holding tea and sit down next to him."

Emma sighed "yes, I know be patient."

Sherlock wiped his eyes and stepped back.

"Now," Emma said placing the tea cups onto the platter "get outside and wait at the door. Once I've got John settled I'll come get you."

Sherlock could see an infinitive amount of flaws in Emma's plan but he conceded that she knew more about feelings than he did so creeping out the door he did as he was told and waited.

As Emma walked back into the main room straight away she could see John's confusion as he noticed the third cup. Emma did not tell him why the other cup was there so he left it, thanking her.

Sitting in silence Emma thought over her next move. If it didn't go to plan then who knows what they would come out of it looking like? But before Emma could find out there was a knock at the door. Scared that it may be Sherlock she quickly ran answer it insisting that John was tired from work and should stay seated.

As she turned the handle she thought of what insult she could yell at Sherlock for not being patient but upon opening the door it was not the lanky curly haired man she had expected but someone she couldn't get a good look at before he bashed her over the head and all faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

John heard the door shut and the sound of feet walking down the steps.

"Emma? Who was at the door?" John asked. When no answer came John became a little panicked "Emma? Are you still here?" walking towards the door john called out again "Emma? Just answer me…" as John approached the door he could see drops of dark red that trailed down the stairs: "Oh god" he whispered.

Grabbing his gun out of the bottom drawer and tucking a small medical kit into his pocket John hurried down the stairs noting the small droplets of what he assumed was Emma's blood dotting every second or third step. Running out of the apartment the panicked man had nothing to go on: no more blood and no taxi scooting away. "Come on John..." pacing the area around the apartment John had a sudden realisation: the back door. Running back inside John looked closer at the blood; the trail turned and made its way to the back door. Whoever had taken Emma, they escaped through the back gate. But John still had nothing to go on. "Think John! Emma would have tried to leave a sign..."  
And there it was: the number 74 painted onto the ground in Emma's own blood accompanies by a small black leaf. John began to think that Emma was a little more than she let on.  
"okay.. address, address. The number is 74; got that. Next. 74 leaf? Leaf road… lane?" john got out his phone which Emma had taught him how to use. It was not an easy matter by any means but she had persisted until he could Google his own blog and make it to the page. Using that skill now he typed into the bar: No. _74 leaf London. _It didn't take long to find it: No. 74 Blackleaf lane. The name sounded familiar but there was no time to work out why. Running back to the main road John hailed a taxi paying the man extra to get him there as fast as possible. When the taxi pulled up at 72 blackleaf lane John knew why the place seemed familiar. As the cab drove off and he approached No. 74 Johns remembered meeting Irene Adler here all those months ago.

Bolting into the half built building John stopped for a moment listening for any sounds. Drip, drip, drip. He could hear water dropping down a pipe. That was all. But just as he was about to continue his search, John heard a large crash coming from the next level.  
Running as fast as his legs would take him John held his gun ready as he crept into the room where he thought the noise to have come from. After a quick search he found the room empty.  
Running into the next room-  
John stopped dead in his tracks. "Emma is in danger. John! You have to concentrate" the '_hallucinating'_ man said to himself. There was no time to be imagining him here now. Not when Emma could be dying...  
"John! Please!" Sherlock shouted out as John started to run again. "I'm sorry but I'm here. I'm not your imagination. Please just stop!"  
John halted and turned, staring at the man who had brought him so much grief.  
"Sherlock? How can you, I saw you, and I felt your pulse. You didn't have one. I-"  
"John I need to explain a lot to you but right now Emma is in danger and we need to get her out of it. So I know this is going to be difficult but let's just try to act like I never died and that you're going to write a blog entry on this when we get home okay?"  
John stumbled to find words but it didn't matter because Sherlock was already running to the door in the way of the latest bang.  
"This way John!" he shouted. Without another thought John did what Sherlock had told him and ran to find Emma alongside his old friend.  
After checking two more rooms it began to seem an impossible task to find the girl. As they reached another dead end the two men stopped to catch their breath both thinking about how they were going to find Emma.  
"We'll just have to check more rooms; she's got to be in one of them, right?" John asked but his last word was drowned out by the sound of Emma's shout "John! Sherlock! Fourteen!" realising what she meant they both sprinted off back down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Scanning the door signs they counted backwards "20...18...16...14!" breaking down the locked door John and Sherlock ran into the room guns poised.  
"Unless you're going to shoot me." Emma quietly said still out of breath from the shouting "you might as well put those guns away. He's gone."


	8. Chapter 8

Another short chapter. I really hope you're enjoying this story! (well, I guess you are up to ch. 8 don't think you'd stick around this long if you didn't like it). I'm currently writing chapter thirteen... and boy does it get interesting!

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Lowering their guns the two men looked in horror at what had become of Emma: handcuffed to the wall blood ran down her face from a large cut on her forehead. Cuts and bruises lined her body and her hair was matted with blood from what John suspected left the drips on the stairs. He ran straight to her and began to inspect he injuries. "Is there anywhere that feels really painful?"  
Emma shook her head slowly in response.  
Sherlock looked out the window trying to think of a way that the man escaped.  
"There's no point looking for him" Emma said her voice horse. "No one ever finds him"  
Giving up his search on finding the man who had hurt Emma he ran over to her:  
"What did he want from you? Have you met him before? Did you tell him anything?"  
Looking in bewilderment John half yelled at the man "Sherlock! Give her a moment; she's just been injured, a lot okay? Not everyone can be like you!" at this last remark Sherlock looked at Emma raising his eyebrows in question. Emma sighed.  
"Um, John? I was planning on telling you this later but, well. You are right, not everyone can be like Sherlock. But I can."  
John's forehead creased "what do you mean?"  
"she high functioning, notices things in the same way I do, remembers things there's only one difference between us"  
"she isn't a sociopath..." John finished Sherlock's sentence.  
"Yes, how did you know?"  
"Because she knew how I felt, she cried... You don't."  
Emma was about to plead Sherlock's case about crying but the sound of a police siren interrupted her.  
"We need to run"  
Emma stood up with the help of John "at the end of this corridor is an exi-"in her hurry she stood up too quickly fainting.  
Without a word Sherlock picked up Emma and he and John began to run in the direction Emma had said. As they reached the door they heard the voices of policemen entering the building. Breaking open the door with no idea what was on the other side they ran through and bolted down the stairs before running down a small alleyway.


	9. Chapter 9

Once they got back to the apartment John went into full doctor mode yelling orders at Sherlock. Emma had regained consciousness during the taxi ride but hadn't moved away from Sherlock. John wondered just how well they had known each other, but there was no time for questions until Emma was taken care of.  
As John Cleaned the wound on the back of her head Emma winced in pain "I'm nearly done okay?" John said soothingly. Taking the bandage Sherlock held out for him John wrapped it around Emma's head. "and, there. All cuts accounted for. Not too much damage. You'll just have to rest for a few days."  
As John packed away the medical supplies Emma gave Sherlock a look that meant "talk to him. He has a hundred questions and you have to answer them."  
Giving back a look that was the equivalent of "yes mum..." Sherlock turned to John: "I'm sorry."  
"What?"  
"I'm. Sorry. I'm sorry that you had to see me fall and I'm sorry you had to think I was dead. But if I hadn't done it you would have been killed! I would never be able to let that happen."  
"Why couldn't you have just given me a sign? A text- Irene managed that- or even a not at the door! Something, anything!" John shouted.  
"John, I, I thought they might still be looking, the snipers. I couldn't let you die."  
"Why were you allowed to die? How is that fair?"  
Sherlock frowned: "but, John. I didn't really die, that's why it's fair. Everyone got to live."  
"Except for Emma's brother" John pointed out  
Sherlock sighed "yes. I am sorry Emma. There was nothing I could do"  
Emma gave a little smile "I know, it's alright. Before that day I could already feel him slipping away, I think he could too. The game became all he cared about." Sherlock wrapped his arm around her and Emma leaned into his shoulder.  
"Oh, yeah. Haha. Um just how well do you two know each other? Because this" John said gesturing towards the two "seems like you know each other well."  
Emma and Sherlock looked at each other and contemplated how they were standing. Removing herself from Sherlock Emma sat down in the armchair and began  
"Around four years ago my father died, and we have this tradition in our family, we print the names of the family they left behind on their hearts -We have done for centuries. Jim never did have a great relationship with father and mother was just too distraught to do it, so it was my job to go and mark our names onto him.  
When I got to the hospital I was shown in by a really lovely girl, she'd only been working there a couple of months. We started talking and found that we had some shared that day we stayed in touch and caught up with each other around once a month. Anyway, one day I came into the hospital to surprise her, I'd been away for a month with my brother so decided to visit her bearing coffee. Well we talked and then I must have said something because she began to laugh. When I asked her why she just grabbed my hand and dragged me into the elevator telling me there was someone I had to meet. When we got to the lab I was introduced to Sherlock."  
"the girl, was that Molly?" John asked.  
"Yes," Sherlock replied even though the question was directed at Emma. "Molly said that Emma had the same type of mind as me, I was about to dismiss the thought when LeStrade ran in asking me to come to a crime scene. I decided to bring her along, test if she really did think like me. She did, I was impressed, the only other person I knew like me was my brother. After that day we stayed in touch I guess. I'd talk to her about cases, we'd complain about how boring people were-"  
"and I'd try to teach him to understand feelings like sentiment" Emma sighed.  
Johns eyes widened as though having a sudden thought "you two aren't, together are you?" John asked awkwardly.  
Emma burst out in laughter and Sherlock snickered. "her and I?"  
"me? With him! Oh, John! You should be a comedian."  
John stood quietly as the two 'high functioning' smart aleics continued to laugh hysterically at Johns suggestion.  
"Take that as a no then?" John said mostly to himself. Looking at his watch he sighed "right well, I'm off to bed then you two... Yeah. Night." shaking his head in confusion John walked off to his room leaving Sherlock and Emma still laughing with tears in their eyes.


End file.
